


Satish's Sad Room

by BunnyMoss



Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 4
Genre: Body Horror, Dead People, Gen, Hallucinations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:14:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22485439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BunnyMoss/pseuds/BunnyMoss
Summary: Paul's just here to leave a note.Isn't he?/Just a little drabble I plucked out after picking up the game again and stumbling upon the location.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	Satish's Sad Room

Humming thrumming chanting

  
Tight little place. Cramped little cells.

  
Loud, too loud, but too quiet.

Do the others not hear Him?

Out there, out there it's safe. Safer than In Here. In Here is a space all its own. Hell. Utter hell.

All he did was walk in the door. Right past the bars and down into the belly of the little cave. All he did was leave the sunlight behind him when he wandered in. Left the fresh mountain air outside in favor of the deep dark dank in here.

What had he come in here for?

Ajay?

No, Ghale isn’t here. Isn’t anywhere, probably, yet. Son of Mohan is everywhere all at once any more. Will probably turn up at the City of Pain soon enough. One way or another. Preferably the other way.

  
Humming thrumming chanting

  
Ashley will want a shiny new trinket, and Satish has outdone himself.

  
Bodies, bodies, living people, bodies everywhere.  
Every cell is jam-packed and yet they're all so quiet. Not complaining. Not struggling. Not a single rebel in here has a word to breathe, or maybe he just can’t hear them over the humming thrumming chanting drowning everything else out.

  
Laura called yesterday. Sounded more and more apathetic. He's losing her.

  
Sometimes you make the right decision.

  
He's here. Made it into the cave. Left the cold air behind for the deep dark dank.

  
Sometimes you make the decision right.

  
Why did he come in here? No more benders, no more cocaine, no more of this shit the week before another big party.

  
So many bodies in here! There’s a few on the floor, and a mask in a cell and there's so much humming thrumming chanting-

  
Wrong.

  
_Wrong_ , no.

  
Strict orders were placed to gather living meat. Alive and breathing and more fun to prod around. More fun to break down.

  
That blasted mask, screeching screaming singing. Is that blood he stepped in? Nothing new. Why'd it squish? Does he care?

  
Oh that's why he came. A note. For Satish. For the hard work. Maybe too much work, there’s too many bodies lying around and why are they bodies they should be living victims are there any-

  
So. Loud.

  
Deafening. Dizzying. A demon in his head.

  
Just gotta write this fucking note and bail, and Satish's cronies can come in after and clean this shit up.

  
There's paper on the wall, a little notepad for observations maybe.

  
He steps over and into another person. Or part of one. Why dead? Why still warm?

  
_SOLOUD_ screeching screaming singing shutitoff

  
Pen in hand. Ears ringing. The whole room smells like shit and bile and rot and fresh, fresh blood, and wow the new Corporal must be doing his job extra well.

  
_“Satish, you've been doing fantastic work here buddy, really stellar results.”_

  
Pen in hand. Pen on paper.

  
_“As you know I'm going to be leaving Kyrat for a few weeks, and as always I'll be throwing a get together in the City of Pain for a few of my top guys.”_

  
Ashley wants a shiny trinket, Laura wants a divorce, Vanya hates his guts.

  
_“The good news is you're in!”_

  
Write it and get out.

  
_“I'll follow up with details soon, keep up the good work, you're really living up to the Corporal promotion.”_

  
getoutgetoutgetoutGOATgetout

  
_“Sometimes you make the right decision, sometimes you make the decision right.”_

  
_\- Paul De Pleur_

  
There. Not so bad. Little hastily scrawled, and his foot is soaked in something he can smell too strongly. Time to go. Job done.

  
Yalung will be pleased.


End file.
